we run until feet bleed, ride trains from the Bronx to Coney Island, watch the sun rise, leave words on granite, find purpose in the music, yell for the gloaming, grow in numbers as the hours pass, push back fate, search for god in the traffic lights, save self, smoke life on the Brooklyn Bridge, jump off the Empire State building, lay down on Broadway, wear noise pollution like headphones, hold her heart in our pockets, dot her eyes, cross her streets, when the city sleeps we will be watching

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Sleepwalk To Failure

it’s around midnight, the nice dream is over,
the gods have stop making love and started committing suicide,
two cups of blood linger lukewarm,
men run around holding mirrors, sleepwalk to failure

a day in the life, a month in a year, a hour in a day,
a dress stretched across a gentleman, a gunshot quick
while she's away, a secret warm place for the cold blood,
a wolf at the wrong door, I’m no pig

the albatross is flying, the alcoholics are dreaming,
they feel alive, all blues in a green room, all my loving
in a closet of hate, all things must pass and all we have is now,
no yesterday, no tomorrow, no amazing journey,
just sparks flying out of your mouth, angels with
scabbed wings, sitting on your shoulders,

this art is hard, gets artificial after time
with no passion, this beautiful strange
bells, ring in the darkness, the black whispers,
the black stars, Saturday is creeping in slowly,
the break of dawn, this burden in my hand
is swelling up, pumped fist and bruised walls,
burned blue by the sun,

the cherubs are dancing on the roof,
the imps are climbing up the walls,
the wounds are cryptic, the scars are
a diary of the last five years, the dirt is piling up,
the panic is setting in, don't know when but
a day is gonna come, this epic/epitaph is a march for
no reason but for tomorrow,

the eunuchs are hiding everything,
the exiles are coming back from their exodus,
fear the voices, feel the void, the fever is rising,
the bell tolls, kill the fortune tellers, break the gates of eden,
grab your guns, the ghosts are out,
say goodbye to this great big wide world

hang yourself to a nail, rid yourself of the scene,
the guillotine is dropping, have mercy on your eyes,
the hunting hands are coming, immortality is a dream,
reality is in limbo, the city is in a jesus christ pose,
crashing jet pilots, the walls have laments spray painted on it,
lay down the cross, pick up the gun,

your life in a glass house is light years away,
the acorns, the church, the horns, the jewels,
the umbrellas, the wings are gone, long hard road
is a longtime coming, the puppets are walking with their strings,
the masters of war are walking without their strings,
the minutes of decay are longer than lives,

the dream and the illusion are moons and horror shows,
self destruct the country, the needles and prayers are bleeding,
no distance left to run, no excuses, no alarms, nowhere to hide,
just stand and look around,

the noose is a liar, the reports make me numb,
the burden is ocean size, the spirits are on the run,
on their own, running with scissors, one of these days
I’m going to cut you into little pieces, the optimism is dead,

take the veil off of a scorched earth,
this sleepwalk to failure is becoming, remember the amnesia,
take the thorn out of your side, your memory remains
a message to the modern world, the red, the white, the black,
the blue, there is a light that never goes out,
the tourniquet is a venus of the abstract,
violet sunshine, we only come out at night,
and we will walk with our army,
and in the end,
we all end at zero.